Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: Inspired by A Fine Proposal by coolbyrne, just the Fabery version.

Life of a Salesman

There's something to be said about seeing Quinn Fabray in her cheerleading uniform.

Rachel Berry couldn't have predicted she would actually be happy to see it on Quinn, but she is. Because Quinn looks so happy. She even does a little twirl and asks, "How does it look?"

Rachel has words - she knows she has words - but all she can do is nod and smile and force herself to breathe, because Quinn has been through so much this year, and now she's smiling as if she's accomplished something solely for herself, and it is stunning.

Quinn's smile falters at her silence. "Is - is it weird?" she asks. "I mean, Coach Sylvester just gave it to me. She says I can get back on the Squad, and I couldn't resist trying it on. I needed to know it still fit after pink-haired Quinn ate about a thousand burritos."

Finally, Rachel finds words. "It looks great, Quinn," she says. "You look great. I promise you have nothing to worry about."

Quinn blushes, ducking her head for a moment, and Rachel considers her own words, wondering if she's said too much. "What are you doing out here, anyway?" Quinn asks. "I figured you would be celebrating with everyone else."

Rachel won't admit to needing a moment alone before they're scheduled to head to the courts, because that would just be giving fuel to Quinn's don't-get-married fire. "I was just coming back from the bathroom," she lies.

Quinn nods once, and then shifts her weight from her left foot to her right. It's an odd sign of nerves, and Rachel wonders what she could possibly be nervous about in this moment.

Then, Quinn traps her bottom lip between her teeth, visibly thinking about something. Rachel can tell an important question is coming, and she's convinced she's ready for it. She's getting married today. She's ready for anything.

Except this, perhaps.

Because, finally, Quinn opens her mouth and says, "I get the feeling I should apologise."

Rachel just stares, because those words are definitely unexpected. Really, anything Quinn says is a surprise. "For the uniform?" she asks, a little dumbfounded.

Quinn's eyes widen in alarm. "What? No, not for that."

Rachel tilts her head to the side. "Then, why do you feel the need to apologise?"

Quinn breathes out, almost shrugging. "I guess, well, as your 'kind of' friend, I get the impression I haven't been supportive enough of your… 'engagement.'"

Rachel sucks in a breath, and then narrows her eyes. "I think that's a bit of an understatement by now, Quinn," she points out. "And, I don't appreciate your use of imaginary quotation marks around 'engagement.'"

Quinn saves them the indignity of trying to deny it. "I suppose that's my point," she says, scuffing the toe of her shoe on the linoleum. "I - I don't know how to do this. I'm not wired to be… the kind of friend you need, and you blindsided me when you came to me for advice. I realise that I basically just told you what to do, which was a reaction on my part, and you responded by…" she trails off, wincing. "Anyway, what I'm saying is that we didn't even talk about it, and what I know is that's what friends do, right?"

And, honestly, Rachel also wouldn't know, because she doesn't actually have the kind of friends to talk to about this kind of thing. She went to Quinn, for goodness' sake. Who would have guessed that when they started high school?

Quinn clears her throat, straightening her spine and trying to look as open as possible. "So, tell me all about it," she offers, looking a little uncomfortable. "I want to support you."

"Quinn," Rachel breathes, unsure what to say. "We don't - "

"Oh, shit," Quinn says, checking her wrist for the time. "Do you even have time? I thought you said the wedding is after Regionals."

"It is," she says. "I just - I mean, we don't have to do this. I know how you feel about teenage marriages."

Quinn sighs. "It's not necessarily teenage marriages I have a problem with," she confesses.

"It's not?" Rachel asks, frowning. It clicks a beat later. "Oh." She looks away. "It's just mine you have a problem with."

"I'm trying not to," Quinn hastily says. "I just - I don't understand." She licks her lips. "Help me understand. Tell me… how did he propose?"

Rachel flinches slightly, because nobody has actually asked her that. Not even Kurt. Her fathers definitely didn't - probably more shocked by the news than anything. "Do - do you really want to know?"

Quinn nods. "Of course," she says. "Tell me."

With a sigh, she says, "He asked me to meet him in the auditorium, and it was clear he was nervous about something." She drops her gaze, unable to look at Quinn's face. "He made me promise not to say anything until he was done talking. He's been so worried he's going to end up like his father; someone he's convinced amounted to nothing, and - and he said I was like a beacon of light guiding him through the darkness. That I'm the best thing about him."

Her brow furrows slightly, because that's a lot of pressure when said out loud. "That I'm like this big gold star, and, for some bizarre reason, I chose to let him love me. And, if he could just convince me to let him keep doing that, he's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay." Her heart twists a little, but she manages an amused smile. "Did you know he opened his first credit card to get the ring? And, he knew it wasn't a swimming pool full of dancers or a tuxedo or very big, but he called it a promise, to keep loving me for the rest of his life. Then, he got down on one knee and said 'All you've got to do is say yes,' before he asked me to marry him, and I - I didn't know what to say after that."

Quinn takes it all in, blinking repeatedly. "And that's when you came to find me? To give you a straightforward and thoughtful answer about it." That she ignored, but neither of them mentions it.

Rachel nods, her smile slipping at the expression on Quinn's face - or lack thereof. "Quinn?" she questions. "What's wrong?"

Quinn shakes her head, as if to clear it. "Oh, no, nothing," she says.

"Something is definitely on your mind," Rachel points out. "What is it?"

Quinn tries to school her features, but she ends up grimacing. "It's nothing," she dismisses.

"Quinn…"

Quinn wrings her fingers together in front of her. "It's just - I guess I never quite imagined that's how you would be proposed to." She looks off to the side, still thoughtful, and Rachel feels something unravel in her chest. Without looking back, Quinn remarks, "I guess I thought proposals are supposed to be about what could be offered to you, and not the other way around."

Rachel frowns. "What does - I don't - "

Quinn shakes her head. "I told you it's nothing," she says, her lips pressed together.

"No, tell me," Rachel presses. "You've had plenty to say about the entire engagement without considering my feelings, so I want to know what you have to say about the proposal."

Quinn puffs out a breath. "It's nothing, Rachel," she repeats. "It just sounds to me that he's saying the one thing going for him in his life is you, and doesn't that scare the shit out of you? That, he wants nothing more than to tie himself to you because he doesn't want to end up like his father? That's - that's not a proposal. That's a life sentence." Even Quinn seems surprised by her own words, and she winces. "Sorry," she says. "I told you I don't know how to do any of this."

Rachel tries to wave it off, but she suddenly feels supremely uncomfortable. It was romantic, right? It was. "Quinn…" she eventually says; "I'm not sure what you want me to say."

Quinn tilts her head to the side. "There's nothing you have to say anything to me, Rachel," she says. "I mean, I guess now I know why you hesitated to give any kind of response immediately."

Rachel's eyes automatically narrow. There's an edge to Quinn's voice that seems out of place, and it prickles at Rachel's already frayed nerves. "I didn't hold off on an answer because of the proposal, Quinn," she says, and her voice is tense. "It's not as if everyone wants the horse-drawn carriage and the church choir in the background, anyway."

Quinn raises her eyebrows at the thinly-veiled accusation. "Is that what you think I want?" she asks, and then scoffs at the answering silence. "Besides, it's not about everyone, anyway; it's about you."

Rachel isn't really thinking when she asks, "And, how exactly would you have done it, then?"

The question seems to startle Quinn, and she leans back slightly. "I don't understand what you're asking."

Rachel leans forward, claiming the space Quinn has tried to put between them. "Sure you do," she says, choosing to roll with her abrupt craziness. "It's easy for you to stand there and criticise the way Finn proposed, so I'm curious to know how you'd do it so much better."

Quinn can definitely hear the challenge in Rachel's voice, and the brunette knows there's no way she's going to back down. Especially not when she's being compared to Finn.

Which, okay, Rachel isn't willing to unpack that at all.

Quinn clears her throat. "Well, firstly, I wouldn't propose to you in the auditorium."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Why? Not romantic enough?"

Quinn puffs out a breath. "It has no meaning to us," she explains. "I mean, does it have a special meaning to you and Finn?"

And, wow, Rachel is definitely not going to answer that question. She's not sure if Quinn actually knows, but revealing that she and Finn actually had their first date and first kiss on that stage while Finn was still dating Quinn is not an option.

Quinn saves her from a response by continuing, anyway. "If I were truly intending to be funny, I would propose in a bathroom." She smiles softly at the idea. "But, frankly, if I were to propose, it would have nothing to do with McKinley. Or Lima." She nods to herself, as if she's building the picture in her mind. "New Haven, maybe," she says. "No. New York, some years from now, because you're going to get there whether you believe it right now. We would find somewhere special to us there. A restaurant, a park, a theatre. I would propose to you in a place I could never go and not immediately think of you."

Even if Rachel were required to respond to that, she's not sure she would know what to say.

"I would choose a day like today," Quinn continues. "A moment like right now, when we're coming off the high of a win, and I know I can make your day better. Not during our lunch break on a school day. The last thing I would ever want is for you to associate the day with school or tests or exams or the stress of being a student. And, I mean, I know how difficult it would be to find the perfect moment for both of us, but I would want to make it as close to perfect as possible."

Quinn steps closer, and bravely reaches for Rachel's left hand with both of her own, absently playing with her fingers. "I am proposing to you; basically explaining why I believe the best thing for us is to get married; to spend the rest of our lives together." She smiles faintly. "I swore to myself I would never do it, but I would essentially be offering you some kind of sales' pitch, of myself. Essentially trying to convince you it's in your best interest to tie your life to mine, in the most romantic sense."

The sides of Rachel's mouth twitch at the echo of her own words.

"I'm the one proposing, so, of course, I already know why I want to be with you for forever, and it's my job to explain it to you, as if I'm some kind of salesman," Quinn says, and it's as if she's not even in the same corridor as Rachel in this moment. "You are so beautiful," she starts, and then squeezes Rachel's fingers when she starts to shake her head. "You are," Quinn insists. "You're beautiful and brave and ambitious and so talented, and you bring such joy to everyone around you, and I selfishly want that for all of my days. I just have to convince you it's worth it to want the same thing, with me. Because, I mean, this is marriage, right? This is forever we're talking about here, so it has to be good."

Rachel almost tells her to stop. She almost gives her the option to end it right now, because it's getting to be too much; too real.

Quinn goes on before she can. "I would tell you that my entire existence will be to make you my everyday priority, and lift you up when the weight of the world causes you to buckle. I would tell you I will be by your side to face all your fears, and make sure to find a reason to make you laugh every single day, whether we're together or not. I would tell you I will be in your corner until my very last breath, and make it my life's purpose to learn every wonderful thing about your bewitching mind and your exquisite body." She lifts Rachel's hand higher, studying the ring already on her finger. She breathes slowly as she carefully removes it, intending to replace it with the one already sitting on her own left hand's middle finger.

Rachel doesn't even think to stop her.

"And then, I would simply tell you, 'I love you,' and then slip the ring onto your finger." With a breathy laugh, Quinn does just that, sliding the ring on and marvelling at how perfectly it fits. Her own heart stutters, and her boldness causes her to bring Rachel's hand up to her mouth, and she places a featherlight kiss over the top of the ring before carefully releasing Rachel's hand and taking a step back.

Rachel blinks once, twice, and then opens her mouth and says, "Yes."

Quinn's eyes widen. "What?"

Rachel shakes her head, as if emerging from a daydream. "Uh, I just - I mean, I would definitely answer yes to that," she admits, laughing nervously.

"So quickly, as well?" Quinn asks, her voice low. "You barely even gave it any thought." Which, okay, is in such contrast to her response to Finn's proposal, and Rachel really doesn't need Quinn to point that out.

Rachel can barely look at her. "Quinn," she breathes, because they really need to stop talking about this before -

Well, she's not sure what could end up happening, but she knows it'll be stupid.

"It was a good sales' pitch," is what Rachel eventually decides to say.

"Just wait until I actually bring it to life," Quinn says, almost offhandedly, and, yeah, Rachel is about to do something very stupid.

Or, not so stupid, depending on whom you ask.

"Quinn," Rachel says again, almost growling, because this is the last thing she needs. She's supposed to be ready.

Quinn looks at her, a little bemused. "What?"

"You really, really suck at this," Rachel accuses, and Quinn is rightfully confused right until the moment Rachel stalks away without a word, and Quinn finds out later that she's called off the entire wedding.

Oh.

Oh.

.

Six years later, when Quinn does finally get the chance to bring her words to life, almost as close to the way she initially planned, Rachel immediately says yes.

And then she adds, "I'm surprised there's no horse-driven carriage."

Quinn just laughs as she draws Rachel into a deep kiss. "At our wedding, I promise," she vows. "We'll even have a church choir in the background."

Rachel sighs happily. "If you recall correctly, I wanted neither of those things."

Quinn smiles softly. "Does this mean I delivered?"

Rachel regards her closely, and then says, "As if there was ever any doubt."

Quinn smiles, soft and happy, as she lifts Rachel's hand to her mouth and kisses the newest band on her ring finger - she's never really taken off the ring Quinn gave her that day in that corridor, a signifier of that promise. "Tell me, do I still suck at this?" Quinn asks.

Rachel grins at her. "You definitely suck at something."

Quinn pinches her side, both of them laughing. "Are you happy?" she asks.

Rachel slides her hands around Quinn's back, hugging her close. "I would have married you when we were teenagers," she confesses.

"Not an answer to my question, but okay," Quinn says, looking a little bemused.

"I'm glad we didn't, though."

"Still not sure where you're going with this."

"This moment is what we deserve," Rachel says, nuzzling Quinn's cheek. "Of course, I'm happy, Quinn," she adds. "How could I not be, with that pitch?" She kisses Quinn's cheek. "You're a very convincing salesman."

Fin